Citric Advice
by 9E-tan
Summary: Stop stalking me- don't you have better things to do? Then again, human beings are prone to wasting the little time they have- like trying to convince me that tangerines are delicious. I wouldn't be surprised if the rabbit put you up to it- trying to persuade me into joining his happy circus crew. [Kanda-centric]


**Disclaimer:** **I do not own D. Gray Man.**

**Genre:** AU Friendship/ Humor

**A/N:** Done purely out of the love and hate of tangerines. If you tell me they have never squirted in your eyes and caused you infernal pain, you lie.

* * *

_Citric Advice  
_

.

.

.

It's as if the whole world is against me having peace and solitude.

Why does the need to celebrate holidays have to breach into my every day life? I don't go around advertising my existence, so holidays should keep to themselves.

For example, not scattering every single symbolic item of Christmas and the Yuletide on my desk.

Namely, the putrid, sickeningly sweet smelling, orange-colored _thing._

_What?_

Sweets are disgusting.

Thus, tangerines, by their own right, are disgusting.

It's a sad little creation, neither an orange nor a clementine.

Not that I care.

_Stop sniffling._

I don't feel the need to apologize to a bunch of snot-nosed brats who feel offended that other opinions exist, so don't look at me that way.

_No, puppy eyes don't work either._ In case you haven't noticed, I eat puppies for dessert.

Before you launch into your animal welfare speeches, you tell me what you'd do at the war front, with nothing left and starvation living next door.

_Bunch of softies sitting on the moral high horse.  
_

I don't have time for your trivial feelings. _This is the Black Order, not your local chummy daycare.  
_

I've more important duties to pursue.

* * *

"Welcome to Tea & Tangerines!"

If there was another reason I hated that citric fruit- other than the fact it causes infernal pain when the juice squirts into your eyes- it was the association with other things I disliked.

Case in point-

"Oh, Yuu-tan, you're here! Did you miss me? Here, come sit down, let me get you a cup of tea-"

_-The local rabbit._

See that unhealthy aura of happiness in the morning? Must be the tangerines.

I stuff the citric fruit against his face without an explanation. Why do I need one anyway?

Cruel?

_Please._

His entire tea shop is painted with that tacky orange color. His hair is orange (red, crimson, orange, it makes no difference). He smells like tangerines- in fact, I wouldn't be surprised if his _entire diet_ consisted of tangerines. Like a rabbit.

_Creepy._

To make it worse, he pastes a saccharine smile on his face that just _does not_ mix with his actual personality. It's disgustingly well-suited with his sly character- leaving a strange aftertaste in your mouth that disrupts your appetite for the next few days.

"Aww, you didn't like my present? I thought you'd appreciate it, you know, because you spend most of your time alone in the library with a stick up your a-"

Before I can put the miserable creature to peace, the door bell rings, announcing the arrival of a new customer.

The red-head grins at me, his one emerald eye twinkling with mischief.

See what I tell you?

Looks are deceiving.

"Ah, Lenalee-san! Here for the usual?" He smiles, gesturing to the chair that he pulled for her.

If I didn't have a reputation as an expressionless (_despite what people tell you, I do not have a permanent scowl! People need to stop being judgmental and understand that for some human beings, not gluing a neon yellow smiley face does not equate to being emotionally unstable!_) character, I would have rolled my eyes.

In reality, the one who needs the real therapy is the rabbit. Tri-polar disorder or something like that.

Regardless, Chinese twintail nods, smiling. She doesn't know the bitter side of the rabbit, after all.

The Bookman quickly hands her the tea when he was finished- and like always, pulls a tangerine from his back pocket.

"Tangerines for your thoughts?"

_Oh no, sob story time._

I'm about to inch away from being dragged into whatever dramatics the woman is about to spew, but ah- too late.

Her grip on my arm is like an iron clasp.

I consider breaking free and running away, but having to tolerate her whiny brother with his obsessive sister complex isn't any more appealing.

I sigh and resign myself to the seat adjacent to Twintails.

_It's not like my day is getting any better._

She flashes me a smile, and continues, "Well, I guess it's kinda stupid, but something is troubling me."

_That's the problem with all women. Why do they say something if they acknowledge it's stupid in the first place? Oh wait, my opinions don't matter. Right._

Lavi grins. "Your brother?"

_I don't see why I should be here. Why am I here?_

"He's at it again- I barely managed to escape here. I mean, what does he think I am? He's dressing me up in frills and laces, and won't let me invite Allen to my birthday party!"

_Oh, how terrible._

If there's one thing I have to agree with her brother, is the denial of that short beansprout.

Unlike the British boy's appearances, he's also part of the same mental category as the one-eyed rabbit. I keep saying this, but I'm the only one sane and normal around here. I don't wallow around in self-misery and have identity issues. Nor do I mope around for dead people.

What?

I've already been dead before- and moping around didn't bring me back.

Their conversation continues- the same old boring cliched problems that I've lived through for a few centuries. And no, I'm not immortal, nor am I an undead. I'm just a scientific mistake that never should have happened- a living example to people who like to play God that unless you want to stick around with an unpleasant being like me, don't play around with lives.

Anyway, moving on.

When the teenage girl finally lets go of my arm (and I feel the blood circulating in my hands again), I hurriedly leave the shop.

Not before being pelted by a mutant orange (because as the law of the universe has it, the holidays must always rub its unappreciative buttocks against your face).

"Come back again!"

_Disgustingly sweet._

I have allergies to human beings.

* * *

The rabbit and his infernal fruit has only been around for two years.

That's a mere speck if you've lived as long as I have.

Still, it feels like my whole lifetime was embedded with that horrid reminder of Christmastime, the way the annoying redhead continues to pepper the small fruit in places where it should never even exist.

Don't know why I tolerate him. Wait, why am I even telling you all of this?

I shouldn't even care, after all.

I don't want your companionship.

(And no, for the last time, I'm not anti-social, I just don't like human beings.)

There's a horrid revelation that dawns on me- _have I finally gone sentimental?_- no, impossible- I don't feel like joining the rest of the mental ward crew.

You keep staring at me like I'm having convulsions on my face. Spit it out, you wimp. I won't stab you- yet.

Or wait, let me try that again, like how the rabbit does it-

Tangerines for your thoughts?

* * *

**A/N: **Really dry and sarcastic. I don't like how DGM has turned out to become these days, from the first time I read the series. Honestly though, Kanda, as my favourite character (back then, not really now)- has a lot of depth. I always wondered how he was really like, deep inside, given that he had lived for a long time, underwent a whole bunch of tests and had his life on a limit, had the woman he loved have her soul in a man's body (who later ends up self-destructing), but remains a character foil and somewhat of a comic relief for his snappish personality. But really, with what perspectives would he be looking at life right now?


End file.
